Maui Day 3

Hey yall!  Just wanted to let you know I blogged about our Maui vacation today on my new blog.  Check out Maui Day 3!

Also if you've included me on your blogroll, you might want to double-check that you've got the new domain.

Thanks guys hope you're having a terrific Tuesday!!

We have a winner! & Random profound thoughts

What to do: make you sit through my random thoughts or go ahead and get the give away stuff over with???  hmmm...

hurrah the pictures are working!!  now look at the pictures and read along with yesterday's post to humor me.  mkay?

yall are too good to me!

i was so proud to have pictures to go with my random blog and incredibly bummed when they didn't work!

Okay so now that I've gotten that out of the way - time to give away a book about s-e-x!!  Into the candy jar every one's names go...okay not that one, its still dirty.  Eww!!

I'm stirring them up good I promise!!

And the winner is...Amy!!!  Expect an email from me shortly.  Congrats.

Okay, now on to my ramblings.  Hmm...what was I going to say?  I remember it being quite deep and thought provoking.

Speaking of, Marla (the author of said book about s-e-x), is having an interesting discussion on her blog today.  Actually I think I'll just copy/paste my comment.  (Subject being saving for the future vs giving it all to benefit the kingdom now.)

i have mixed thoughts on this subject. In some ways saving is important, even spiritually. This is a lame example but its the best I have so it’ll have to do. I’ve gained and lost 15 pounds and fluctuated 3 sizes. I held on to the different sizes not knowing where I was supposed to be.


then one day God spoke (he borrows the voices that are already in my head – he’s the one that suggests things that i don’t wanna do ) to me and said “give them up.”


me: what if i need them again?
God: you were able to get those, you can get more.
me: but I don’t wanna!

in the end i boxed them up and took them to a yard sale. there was a girl there (who i knew previously) who needed them, but she also needed to talk to someone who understood. she was less monetarily poor and more poor emotionally.


had i never purchased those pants, or gave them away too quickly I would have missed this appointment God had set for me.


God didn’t want me to just drop my pants off at the local thrift store. He wanted *that* moment.


I don’t think having stuff is necessarily wrong, but we must understand that they (or it if we’re talking money) isn’t ours. And if someone asks us for all of our size 8 pants we ask if they needs skirts too.


I just hope that in asking me to give away my 8s He allows me to fit into my 6s

Unfortunately I don't think my heart is always that open, my mind in communication to God.  I want to get there again.  Stay there this time. 

I know I've said this before, but God has incredible things in store for my life if only I'm willing to unclench my fist long enough for Him to give it to me!

This is how I roll

Sure today is check in day at the Sisterhood. 

Yes this is a quasi-post about just that.



See - I even used the button.  ^^

I'm up a half pound today and am thrilled about it.  I ate 3,000+ calories yesterday and am still suffering a bit from beer bloat.  Only a half a pound is incredible!

Wanna know why I'm struggling with this weight loss thing?  Slip on these size 9 narrows of mine and take a little walk.

Yesterday I got up early to run before work so that I could help Jay with an errand for the cabin at lunch.  Breakfast was fine, as was morning snack.  As I tried to eat my lunch before I left to pick him up, I just couldn't force myself to eat it.  Chipotle lime chicken with rice. 

Might as well have been a stale saltine cracker.

You see for over a year now I've dazzled my taste buds with exciting cuisine: chips and salsa followed by a chicken chimichanga with refried beans at the Mexican restaurant, pizza and bread sticks galore at the Pizza Hut buffet, and whatever my mom and I decide we're craving on Fast Food Friday.

So instead of eating the chicken and rice, I rebelled.  I did finish my salad, but I threw the rice away and put the chicken back in the fridge.  Then after Jay and I were finished with the errand we stopped in Rotten Ronnie's for a burger, fries, and a hot fudge sundae (I'm a $1 menu shopper).

After a dental appointment, Jay and I met his cousin and wife at our favorite local restaurant for dinner.

{insert picture of 33 oz Black Bear Ale here} *

Beer, wings, and pizza was the order of the evening.  Followed by a little mini-golf.

{insert putt-putt picture here}

Around hole 16 it started thundering.  By my turn on hole 18 it was pouring the rain and me (and my Ann Taylor work clothes) were drenched.  We retreated inside to the arcade.

{insert picture of Big Chad playing a hunting game here}

Jay & I hated to waste money on tokens, but I did bust out a few mad skeeball skilz.

{insert skeeball picture here}

So you see, with all that fun and excitement - how do I expect to lose weight?  I'm certainly not going to be the girl who sips water and eats a salad while everyone else dives in to the fattening yummy food.

*I'm highly annoyed with blogger right now.  Its not loading the super cool awesome pictures I wanted to show you.  So that's it for blogger.  I'll announce my ebook winner here tomorrow, then Friday I'm moving over to my new wordpress site.  Hope you'll join me there!!

Maui Day 2

Our day 2 itinerary was a bit shorter than the previous day’s but it wasn’t short on excitement. We tackled our first hike of the trip. I think it goes without saying but I’m gonna say it any way, but the mountains of Maui are much different than the mountains back home. While we have our share of elevation change, we rarely have a constant up. And most always a good mountain hike is well shaded. Not so when the mountain is a dormant volcano.

We parked the trusty Jeep and headed toward the trail head. One advantage of staying with friends? We didn’t have the token rental car that screams “rob me – I have valuables”. We frequently left our windows down when starting out on hikes – that way we didn’t have to worry about getting into a sweltering car after a tough climb.

The Ridges hike was hard yo. The first part was straight up. Sure it was paved, but that didn’t really help. Jay ran off and left me and waited where the trail started into the woods.

There were lots of beautiful sights along the way, but unfortunately when we got to the top the clouds had rolled in and the view was nonexistent.

Once again we lunched in Wailuku, but this time we found a local Italian restaurant to enjoy. I had the lasagna plate – with salad, at this point I was desperately craving one – and Jay enjoyed a Philly cheese steak. Not exactly traditional Hawaiian cuisine, but very tasty.

The weather had held out, so we headed to the Swinging bridges trail. We’d be cautioned about flash flooding problems that came with a rain storm, but since it hadn’t started raining yet we thought we were in the clear.

Pulling up to the pay gate, we noticed rescue vehicles at the trail head. “Flash flooding?” Jay asked. Turns out a woman had hurt her leg on the trail and was being airlifted out. I had seen a helicopter at a baseball field at a nearby school, but I assumed they were running a drill.

Guess not.

When we came to the first bridge, we ran into some of the rescue personnel. They advised us to not proceed because of the flash flood threat. Chad had told us that as long as it wasn’t raining we were fine. We smile politely and continued on our way.

We made it safely across the 2 swinging bridges as well as the creek crossings that required us to take off our shoes and socks.

 I had learned my lesson the day before and had my bikini conveniently under my clothing.

We enjoyed ourselves at the final pool until it started to sprinkle. Definitely our signal to head back. At this point the trail was deserted and I started to get worried. Then I heard the first thunder crack. I started to get annoyed that Jay insisted we push on.

The real rain didn’t start until after we made it across the last creek crossing. I don’t know if God was holding back the storm or what but I was very much relieved to be on the right side of the trail. Once we made it back to the car Jay checked in with Chad. They discussed potentially going out to eat but I was tired and drenched so I just wanted to go home.

A showered and a wonderful homemade hot meal rounded out our 2nd day in paradise.

Mountain Man Memorial March - Race Report

Over a year ago I trained with a group of friends to compete in the Mountain Man Memorial March – 26.2 miles of walk/jogging/hiking through downtown Gatlinburg, going into the country and hitting some pretty steep, hilly roads.


At the time Jay made fun “You don’t have to train just to walk that race.” I insisted that doing anything for 26.2 miles required some sort of training. Then and there the bet was made – in one year’s time we’d enter the same race. He’d prove to me that training wasn’t necessary. And I’d sit back prideful knowing I was right, and that the distance couldn’t be completed without the proper preparation.

The night before I went out with some girlfriends – I had the teriyaki steak, peppers, & onions with mashed potatoes and green beans. Fairly healthy for a meal out. Jay made himself 42 pizza rolls and washed them down with 6 bottles of Natty Ice.

I was a lock to win.

The next morning it was still storming as I got up and dressed Jay lay in bed “I think I just forfeit now.” For some reason I talked him out of bed. We got a later start than I wanted, but we still stopped for breakfast on the way and made it in time to pick up our race numbers.

I got teary eyed looking at the people surrounding me. A host of military & ROTC personnel in full uniform. Most would be making this trek wearing 40 pound back packs. I’m sure there is some good reason for those military boots, but mostly they just look uncomfortable.

Once the race got started, we headed down the streets of Gatlinburg. On the sidewalk and looking from hotel balconies on River Road we were showered with cheers and well-wishers. “Thank you for coming out this morning.” I said to a couple as we passed.

“They aren’t cheering for you – their cheering for the military people.” Jay snapped.

“I don’t care who they are here for, it was sweet of them to come out and I wanted to thank them.” I bit back.

He and I stayed together for the first mile or mile and a half. “I hate to leave you, “ he said “should we try to stay together?”

“It’s a race – do what you need to do.” As he pulled away I assured myself I’d be able to reel him back in later. I trotted down the hills, as was my strategy, but he just kept getting further and further away.

As we turned down 321, I started to get bored. Putting in my IPod for the first time I realized I’d made a mistake. Downloading an audio book with head phones with no volume control = bad mistake. As the cars zoomed past us I couldn’t hear the author as she was reading. Thankfully we’d be on back roads soon and I’d be able to enjoy the book then.

In the mean time, I struck up conversation with some Boy Scouts, given their age they had to be Eagle Scouts or higher up in the ranks. I chatted with them for a bit as I munched on my Teddy Grahams I’d packed for the race. I felt like class mom or something when I offered them some.

I could tell I was an old lady cramping their style so we split company. At the half marathon turn around point, I caught up with a crew from the University of Dayton as well as a civilian marching in memory of a soldier killed in action. I’d seen a member of his team carrying a Purple Heart flag. The back of his shirt had a picture of a young man and Dec 2006 date. Underneath the date the shirt read “It can’t always be someone else’s son.”

As I spoke to this man I explained how I was racing my husband. About how last year I did it in honor of a friend’s husband who was overseas but this year it was a competition. How the hubby didn’t realize how hard the middle portion of the race would be.

He told me that he was a nearby local, but not from this county. How his son asked him to hike Mt. LeConte with him and how difficult it was when he did it without training. He said the next year his son mentioned hiking the Appalachian Trail (the Smoky Mountains portion), so he trained to prepare for it. When he asked his son when they would hike it, his son informed him that he had joined the military and there wouldn’t be an opportunity.

This gentleman never got to hike the AT with his son.

Instead, every year he returns to Gatlinburg to march this course in his son’s memory. He assured me that one day he’d be able to hike again with his son before chastising himself for becoming too sentimental. I assured him that was quite already and he’d earned the right.

He dropped back to check in on his team members and I continued ahead. Except for the portions of the road too close to the river & its rushing water from the night before’s storm, the audio book kept me company.

(i don't know why blogger isn't cooperating - this picture should be rotated left & it is everywhere until I upload it.  grrrr!)

At mile 12 there was a 9% grade. This is why I laughed at the old lady at Disney that called an underpass a “hill”. A 4% grade (and there were plenty of those) is considered substantial for a running course. This one was almost unmanageable.

(for full effect please either turn your computer sideways or view them on facebook)

Once I reached the aid station at the top, I took my shoes off to survey my feet. As suspected, a blister had formed on the insides of my heels on each foot. A medic fixed me up with some mole skin and I was ready to go. As I put my shoes & socks back on I heard a soldier ask for padded moleskin – he said his heels were hot but the balls were just absorbing too much pressure from hitting so hard. The medic advised him to put the padded moleskin between his inner thighs and the soldier just starred at him.

“Um, I meant the balls of my feet.”

Silly boys!

Most of the rest of the race was uneventful. The outsides of my hips started getting sore just past the half way point and I had to stop several times to stretch. At mile 20 I was starting to get discouraged, Jay was still well ahead of me.

In an effort to hydrate, I did too good of a job an around mile 22 I was desperate to pee. Despite being back on the main road, I couldn’t jog because of the state of my bladder. While my legs were crying to run, my bladder was threatening to wet me if I tried as much as a jog. I had to wait until the 24.5 marker before seeing a porta-potty.

It was just me and my thoughts since my Ipod wasn’t cooperating, and they weren’t happy ones. I heard my phone beep at the 6:20 hour point and I assumed it was Jay telling me he was done. It was my mother instead, but I didn’t get it before the call went to voicemail. Shortly after I got the call from Jay – he never said he was done but I knew it by my voice.

Although the sun was behind the clouds, I put my sunglasses on so I could cry. Didn’t want a passing car to mistake me for someone in physical pain.

What a failure I am I told myself. Worked two years to get here and Jay can beat me straight off the couch. I’ve been such a fool, been so proud of all I’ve achieved and in one day he proves that nothing I’ve done means anything. Anyone could walk 26 miles – you don’t even have to train for it, he said, then got out and proved it. I should just give up.

When I reached the last water station I asked how far it was to the finish. I honestly considered calling it quits. It was only another 1.5 miles, so I trudged on. Wogging from point to point, trying to remember the layout of the city and if the finish was just around the corner.

When I saw the guitar on the front of the Hard Rock Café I knew it was time to jog one final time. As I headed down the hill I heard cheering, knowing this time it was for me. I rounded the corner and headed toward the finish line. Jay popped out of the crowd, told me he was proud of me and crossed the finish with me.

I wanted to hit him.

My watch time said 7:50:54 – I think the official clock was a minute slower, but that didn’t account for the time it took to cross the start line. Official results haven’t yet been posted, but Jay thinks he might have placed in the civilian light marcher division. I’m going to do a post about how proud of him I am, but I just can’t stomach it right now.

Yes I’m still pouting.

This sucks.

Out loud.

Maui Day 1

We woke our first day in paradise to a delicious breakfast prepared by our hosts. After asking them for pointers, we began our Maui adventure. Some of the roads in the less touristy sections are pretty rough.

 So it was with the north side of west Maui. The road itself was smooth enough, but it was 1 lane wide while accommodating 2 directions of traffic. Thankfully Jay was in the driver’s seat to deal with all that stress.

Our first stop was a fruit stand – but not just any fruit stand – Julia’s. This stop was highly lauded by both our hosts and the guide book. We sampled some taro chips – and the world’s cheapest couple paid $4 for a tiny bag of chips. We also purchased a couple of loaves of banana bread – one for Jay and one for Chad and Caroline.

As we munched on the taro chips, we hit the road again looking for the Nakalele blowhole. It was a tiny hike, but very much worth it when we got down there.

Caroline had told us of a group of kids that got killed getting to close, so I made sure Jay observed from a distance. Thankfully another couple was down at the base to snap our photo.

We returned the favor and snapped their picture.  When we saw their pose we knew we had to play copy cat!!

Next on our list were the Olivine Pools – the footing here was a bit more tricky to navigate and this Dare Devil Diva had to be talked into it.

After pouting and refusing to go down for about 5 minutes, I saw another couple safely make their way to the pools and I decided to give it a go.

Here we learned our first rule of Maui travel – always wear a bathing suit. These pools would have been the perfect place to relax and enjoy the water, but neither Jay nor I had though far enough ahead. We soaked our feet for a bit, and did dare to walk around in the pools that only met our knees.

I was starving, so I made Jay stop in the nearest city (Wailuku) for lunch. Typically we prefer Mom & Pop restaurants, but we couldn’t spot any and Jay knows better than to make his wife go hungry for very long. McDonalds would have to do. After a successful refueling stop (both body and vehicle) we headed toward the ‘Iao Needle. This site was geared more toward older folk and families as far as the trails were concerned, but the view wasn’t disappointing.

On the way to our temporary home, we stopped at a beacon I read about in the guidebook. The lighthouse fixture itself wasn’t anything impressive, but our stop was well worth it. While there we saw our first whales of the trip.  We also kicked back to relax a bit at a nearby beach park, but since we didn't have our swimming gear we just enjoyed it from the beach.

A brief trip to Lahaina (a touristy area similar to Gatlinburg near where Jay & I live in Tennessee) for ice cream and shaved ice, as well as a pop into the used book store (I can’t pass one by without stopping) and our first day in paradise was almost complete.

We dined on the first of many dinners prepared by our expert chef/hosts then called it a night.

Check back in a month or so to read/see all about day 2!  I kid (hopefully).

Finally a Hawaii Blog!

Traveling with my family as a child, I always struggled to pack light. What if I forgot something? What if the 90+ degree weather suddenly turned cold and I need a jacket? What if we caught a play and I needed a nice dress and fancy shoes?

(My family never caught plays. Just in case you were wondering.)

“Only pack what you can carry” was my dad’s our family motto. Not because carrying the luggage was actual a problem, but because we always traveled in small cars. Small cars have small trunks.

Being the spunky young woman I was am, I just became strong and good at carrying stuff. (I’m still young right? Right???)

So when this whole pay-per-bag thing started in the airline industry, I was not a fan. I’m cheap and I want 6 different shoe choices for a 5 day trip. That’s just the way I roll. But, alas, my opinions matter not to the airline big wigs, so I’m forced to choose.

Any relaxation or excitement for exploring new places is forgotten when it comes to fitting everything I’ll need for a week and a half in one suitcase, one carry on, and one backpack. It doesn’t help that I read quickly and I need several books for a full day's worth of travel.

Sunday night, as I was packing for our Maui vacation, I was super stressed. My one and only saving grace was that I knew our hosts would either have a washer/dryer that I could borrow, or they could point me in the direction of the nearest laundromat.

My parents both had to work Monday morning and weren’t available to take us to the airport. My aunt (dad’s sis) had offered to take my mom to any follow up doctor appointments following her surgery, so my dad called her and asked if she would mind dropping us off.

Before you question, yes, I realize those are totally not the same. However since both she and her husband are retired, we figured she wouldn’t care to help us out. We were right.

At the airport, they saw us through the security checkpoint (I remembered to leave my pocket knife at home this time) and we were off to our gate. Our local airport is a small one. While that’s annoying for trying to get a direct flight anywhere, it meant no full body “porno” scanners to worry about.

After 30 minutes of the loudspeaker asking anyone with flexible travel plans to take vouchers instead of a flight, the plane finally started boarding. Only Jay had just sent an email with a fairly large attachment. Anxious that we’d miss the flight I went and asked how much longer until the final boarding call. I was assured that we still had a few moments and I was forced to find something else to fret about.

Our flight from Knoxville to Dallas was fairly uneventful, and since they don’t serve snacks, only drinks, on planes these days, I didn’t realize I had forgotten something terribly important.

My hand sanitizer.

I remember setting the 5 oz bottle out of my purse meaning to get one that was 3 oz or less (to met TSA regulations), only I had never made the swap. I was forced to eat my Fuddruckers burger and fries with dirty hands. As we ate lunch, we watched fellow travelers check in at the TSA stations. Several weren’t as luck as Jay and I. We got to watch the scanners in action. Hopefully no radiation skipped over our way as we stared.

We got to the gate early, but they were already loading. Once again Jay had to check his email and wait for his replies to move from his “outbox” to “sent items” before he closed it up and we got on board. We were in no rush since we’d be in the air over 8 hours.

Thankfully a friend had loaned me a 500 page fiction book. I’m weird about reading, and don’t like to start another fiction book the same day I’ve finished another. I think its that the characters get so deep in my brain that I have trouble going from one set to another. When I finished the book, I flipped through some magazines then decided to take a short nap.

Unfortunately for the stranger seated to the right of me, I did the uncomfortable head doddle in his direction. Thankfully, however, no drool was involved.

We finally landed in Honolulu and made our way to the gate for our next flight. It was so frustrating to be in Hawaii, yet still have to wait to get to our final destination. Jay occupied himself with work emails while I hunted out and scored us dinner at Burger King.

I already hated the time change – I had nothing to read, was exhausted, and couldn’t call home to chat without waking someone up.

During the Maui flight, my exhaustion had really set in and everything was getting on my nerves. Jay and I weren’t seated beside one another. The girl seated beside me had used one end of my seat belt to buckle up. I could either say something to her, or ride the entire 40 minute flight with my belt twisted.

Obviously, I had to say something.

I was too awake, so I pulled out my non-fiction book “Somebody’s Gotta Say It” by Neil Bortz. For those of you who don’t know, he’s a talk radio guy who loves to offend. While he’s a bit hateful (which I’m sure makes great radio) we share similar libertarian political leanings. I just knew that someone would read over my shoulder how public schools are brainwashing our children and comparable to child abuse. (Before you flame me, I don’t claim to share all of his opinions – but he’s definitely an entertaining read.)

Also on the flight was the snorter from hell. You know the type – they act like they’ve never met a tissue and think that snorting the snot back up into their nasal cavity is the wisest choice. He was seated directly behind me and snorted every 3 seconds at one point.

Yes – I counted.

For real.

At one point I got a 7 second reprieve but then he was back on his 3 second rotation. It took all my self control to not hit the flight attendant button and ask her to give him a tissue.

People suck yo. As we disembarked, a woman asked a man to help get her carry on down from the overhead bin. Remember the “don’t pack what you can’t carry” rule? The “lady” (used loosely of course) didn’t even have the courtesy to say “thank you” to the man who assisted her. Later, while waiting for our host to pick us up, this same woman and her husband (wonder why he couldn’t have helped her with her luggage issues?) almost ran over us on the sidewalk. Apparently we were standing in their walking zone.

Can you tell I desperately needed sleep at this point? Thankfully Jay’s buddy Chad showed up shortly thereafter, adorned our necks with leis and drove us back to his house.  I kept taking deep breaths to enjoy the fragrence of the flowers (yes, my lei was real, not one of those cheap plastic ones).
All of that and I don’t have the first picture of Hawaii to share with you yet. Be patient, they’re coming shortly.

What's your story?

I've been doing a lot of deep reading here lately.  On the surface the books look harmless enough.  They aren't 1,000 pages long nor are they filled with heavy words or a vocabulary that requires me to have a dictionary every step of the way.

Yet they have both stimulated my mind.  To pull myself out of the ordinary and into the world of greatness.

Step one - Don't feed the black dog. (depression)

Step two - Consider each choice in light of eternity.

Step three - Begin living a story so great your heart smiles just thinking about it.

Last week I finished reading my preview copy of Andy Andrews'  The Final Summit: A Quest to Find the One Principle That Will Save Humanity(official review to follow in a few weeks).  This week I've been working on Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.

Why do I do what I do?

What difference am I making in this world?

I'm starting to get excited about sharing my stories from Hawaii because what good is living fun stories if you can't share them.

I'm also excited about planning out my stories for the next few years. 

If you'll excuse me, I'm off to change the world.

What I love about real life is that stories can be as simple as hugging your niece tightly because she's too young to understand her feelings and just needs to feel loved.  But they can also as complicated as spending 14 hours in the car to help your sister fix a mistake.


What's your story?  What kind of legacy are you leaving for your children and for generations to come?  I'd love to hear about them!

Also? Please continue to remember my brother-in-law, sister, and the rest of the family in prayer as they say their final goodbye's to his father. 

Random Junk Mail Prompts Me to Prompt You to Action

I'm the designated mail getter at my house.  Our box is at a weird spot in relation to our driveway and I always drive by (yes drive, not walk) and get it on my way in from work.  I'm a weirdo in that I enjoy getting junk mail, I even enjoy bills.  No mail is the only kind of mail I don't enjoy.

Before you cart me off to the loony bin, I enjoy opening bills because I get that nerdy high when I open them and write them in my day planner (in red ink - to show its money owed.)  Then when I pay the bill I highlight it in green (the color of money) to show its paid.

Okay, I'm starting to get a nerdy high just talking about it, and I'm getting myself off track.

Junk mail.

I love it.

I'm not sure why, but I love opening my mailbox to find something.  Anything. 

One of those random pieces of junk mail is a hemophilia newsletter.  If you've read here very long you know my husband is a mutant.  (No really - he has a genetic disease that no one else in his bloodline has.  A mutation.) 

Unfortunately, he's not a mutant in the variety of Wolverine. 

(source)

Okay so the knives shooting out of his hands would be creepy in real life, but I'm talking about Wolverine's ability to regenerate.  In fact, my husband's problem is just the opposite.  As a hemophiliac, his blood lacks a clotting factor.  The result?  His body takes longer to heal than your average non-mutant.  Sometimes to the point of requiring medication to help things along.

Back to the newsletter.  Every month (or is it once a quarter) we're told of the different places we can go have a free meal if only we'll sit through a presentation from a pharmaceutical rep.  (Believe it or not the cheapest couple in the world has never attended one of these.)

What I did find out?  March is Hemophilia awareness month.

I don't claim to be an expert on the topic, but I know that loving someone with the blood disorder can sometimes be scary and painful.  I know the basics about the disease.  You and I probably clot in the 90-100% range, my husband clots in the 10-12% range.  Even scarier is that he is a mild case, and that there are hemophiliacs who have a less than 1% clotting ability.

I'm thankful that his case is mild.  I'm also thankful that since we've been together, he's only had one major injury.  (You can read about it here and here.)

As a hemophiliac born in the same decade as Ryan White, I'm glad to say that my in-laws did whatever they had to do to ensure that Jay was never treated with human blood.  Having said that I know there are some people where that's just not feasible.  One treatment can cost thousands of dollars.

Because of that, I'm asking you to give blood.  In my area, Medic is our local supplier when it comes to donating or receiving blood.  I don't know if you have a similar organization in your area, but please do some research.  Donating to Medic means your family is covered (for free) if the situation arises that you would need a transfusion.  And thankfully, due to tragedies like Ryan White's, the blood is highly screened and safe.

One day I was playing around on Facebook and saw a "donate blood and run a 5K" challenge.  You guys know how much I love a good race, so my first thought was "I should do that."  I had just finished up my treatments for anemia, so it only took a second for me to remember what a bad idea that was.

My second thought?  Maybe I could talk Jay into giving for me!  Obviously the excitement about the race had clouded my judgment.  His blood would be as useful to Medic as tits on a boar hog.  (One of my dad's favorite sayings.)

Not one to give up quickly (unless it suits me), I talked my dad into giving.  He's a Medic regular - gives on behalf of himself and my mom, on behalf of my family, and on behalf of my sister's family (they won't take BIL's blood because he's from the United Kingdom).  I told him that he needed to wait to give until I could tag along and take pictures.

Thankfully, he's not one to shy away from the spotlight, and the Medic people didn't think I was too crazy.

Hi Daddy!  I promised the Medic workers that I wouldn't get pictures of any one's faces except my father's.  Medical confidentiality and all.

The process is really easy.  After some paperwork and a quick finger prick (to make sure you're not anemic) you then get escorted to one of these lovely beds.  The get you hooked up and off you go.  I have tiny little stubborn veins.  I've had nurses fight over who has to take my blood.  Both times with Medic?  They hit me first try with no problems.

Once you fill 'er up, you get cookies, soda, and a free t-shirt.  All for giving the gift of life!

Yes, everything around here revolves around University of Tennessee football. *eye roll* but you can't blame Medic.  Whatever works, right?

So please, give blood if you can.  If not, try to encourage someone in your family who can to do so.  Also?  Please never take your good health for granted.  I promise, for every time you participate in a contact sport, there is a mutant out there somewhere wishing that he could join you. 

"Thanks guys."